


You're Just Like An Angel

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Humiliation, Masturbation, Ogling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Vanya has wandering eyes.
Relationships: Helen Cho/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 11
Kudos: 140





	You're Just Like An Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes, that is a line from _Creep_. How could I not?

Puberty was worse the second time around.

Well, no, Vanya was aware that she was simplifying the issue somewhat. She wasn't _exactly_ going through puberty again. It wasn't as if she was having to worry about getting her period for the first time, or she was breaking out in pimples. True, she was having to deal with strong emotions since the first time she was four, but at least there weren't the especially obnoxious bits of puberty. She didn't have to buy new clothes, she didn't have to sit on the sidelines as everyone else grew taller. 

But... well, in some ways, it was worse.

Not to put too fine a point of it, Vanya had been sedated through most of her childhood. She remembered puberty as being annoying more than anything else - none of this sweaty desperation that seemed to be tunneling through her like a worm through dirt. She had been isolated and left to herself when she was a kid, and now she was an adult, and it was like clouds had been lifted from her eyes.

There were so many _beautiful_ women around her, and she was... well.

The first time she caught her eyes idly dipping beneath the neckline of a bank teller's v-cut blouse, she blushed and stuttered and dropped her deposit slip. The first time she found herself fantasizing about the woman in front of her's ass on her commute to the concert, she mentally changed the subject as quickly as possible, her face turning red.

She was turning into… she didn’t know what. She found herself... noticing things, noticing things about women specifically, and that kind of put things into perspective, didn't it? She had always been vaguely aware of other people being attractive, in an abstract sort of way, but there were a lot of abstract concepts she saw in her day to day life that she didn't connect to herself. It was one thing to look at an objectively pretty woman behind the cash register at the grocery store and think that she looked like she could star in a movie next to Allison. It was quite another to be able to notice the mounds in the cashier's shirt where her soft, heavy breasts pressed against the fabric, and imagine pressing her face into the space between them. 

It wasn't just that Vanya was having lewd thoughts. She could _live_ with lewd thoughts once and a while - it was nice to have something private and horny in the back of her mind, especially when she could store that feeling for later, when she would masturbate desperately in her own bed. But the lewd thoughts were intruding on her day to day life, and she couldn't seem to be able to make them _stop_. She found her eyes tracking the soft curves of breasts, the sway of hips, the roundness of asses. She was even fantasizing about theoretically "safe" body parts; she missed her cue three times one practice, because she was mesmerized by the sweep of curly red hair across the shoulder of the woman in front of her. She wanted to press her lips against the back of the other woman's neck, feel the spot where the hair grew soft and wispy, smell the warm scent of her skin. 

She'd always faintly wondered if people had been telling the truth about all of those passionate feelings she read about in a certain class of romance novel when she was younger and still trying to figure things out. She'd figured they'd all been exaggerated for the look of the thing. All of the sex that she had taken part in had been... fine. She usually didn't have an orgasm, but the men she'd slept with had been understanding. Well, apart from Leonard, but she didn't want to think about Leonard. 

She'd always assumed that passionate yearning was a thing like love at first sight, and was just invented to sell things. 

It turned out... well, it turned out that she had been wrong. The reason she'd never been especially prone to passionately yearn was because it had been sedated out of her, and because there weren't many people around to passionately yearn _for_. Wandering around the outside world, she was suddenly, achingly aware of just how many women there were in the world, and how badly she wanted... she didn't even know what it was that she wanted, exactly, except that she wanted it so badly it almost hurt sometimes. Some of it was a yawnint skin hunger, some of it was arousal, but she was utterly clueless otherwise. 

At least she was pretty sure that the rest of the family wouldn't be too shocked at her being gay. Klaus had been getting crushes on people of all genders since they'd been old enough to conceptualize what a crush _was_. Maybe they'd be surprised at her for expressing interest in anyone in the first place, come to think of it, but she wasn't going to go down that particular road, because that way led to resentment, and she had enough of that in her life in the first place.

And besides, Vanya was discovering... well. 

It wasn't that she was _trying_ to be some kind of a voyeur. It was just that people didn't seem to notice her. It had bothered her, back when she was medicated, but these days it seemed almost... interesting. It didn’t _stop_ , no matter what she did. She masturbated, but her eyes still seemed drawn. Unless she was actively trying not to stare (which made her even more awkward), because people noticed her not making eye contact, and she couldn’t keep up with conversations. 

She was trying to be normal. She was doing her very best!

She went to the gym to swim laps, and she sat on a bench in the locker room, and just watched all of the women walking by in states of undress, watched women bending over to take off their bikini bottoms, watched women pulling shirts over their heads, unclipping bras. She saw breasts and vulvas and asses, hips and hands and backs. She’d seen it all before, but for the first time, it filled her up with an anxious, nervous heat, and she rubbed her thighs together. She was getting wet, and her heart was beating desperately in her chest. 

Vanya glanced around nervously, and nobody seemed to have noticed. Nobody seemed to care. She let her eyes slide along the line of one woman’s leg, to the curly thatch of hair between the other woman’s legs, and her eyes crept up, to pink nipples, and soft, round breasts. Vanya stole one more glance, then looked down at her own lap, and she blushed harder. She was so wet she was going to leave a wet spot on her bench. But she was in a bathing suit wet from her swim. It would be fine.

Nobody noticed her anyway. Maybe it was about time for her to start taking advantage of it. 

Vanya let her eyes wander a little freer. At first, because she wanted to see how much she could get away with - someone was going to call her on it eventually, right? People couldn't just... _get away with_ ogling people in their day to day lives. That wasn't a thing that happened. Except, apparently, it did. 

Women flat out didn't notice the way Vanya's eyes were drawn to their chests, their hips, their asses. They, admittedly, didn't notice Vanya in general, but that wasn't entirely Vanya's fault. The idea of trying to connect with another human being intimately, after everything with Leonard ( _Harold_ ) just felt like too much work. Sure, it was probably a little cowardly and more than a little gross to ogle, but it wasn't as if she was being _too_ dehumanizing, right? 

She bought dirty magazines a few times, because it seemed like the thing to do. She wasn't especially impressed with most of what she was seeing - naked women, sure, but too much makeup, long nails, overly stylized. She didn't see any birthmarks, scars, stretch marks. There was a woman at the bank who had a scar along her collarbone that Vanya wanted to run her tongue over. There was the woman at the gym whose stretch marks looked like silver fossils, and Vanya wanted to feel them under her fingers. There was the woman at the book store with the birthmark shaped like a crescent moon at the hinge of her jaw, that Vanya imagined getting darker when the woman blushed.She was beginning to realize she had a type, even if she wasn't entirely sure what that type... _was_. She daydreamed about putting her mouth on all of the intimate parts of a woman's body, all of the imperfect, awkward places, and she came again and again, shaking around her own fingers. 

Vanya found that she liked going through life in a horny daze. She seemed to be permanently sticky between the legs, and the images that ran through her mind were... varied, to be sure. She had always been small and quiet and faded into the background. It was just that now instead of thinking moodily about how she was never included in anything, she let her mind take her wherever she wanted it to. It might not have been healthier, per se, but she found herself in better spirits. 

* * * 

Three days before the beginning of their time off for the winter holidays, the guest conductor wore a very low cut shirt. Vanya was able to keep her mind on her playing while she was playing, thank god, but once everything was put away, she was... well, she was looking. She still sat closer to the back than the front, and the tops of the conductor's breasts were visible. Vanya wanted to press her face into them, wanted to hold them in her hands. She imagined grabbing the neckline of that light purple shirt and pulling it down, until the conductor's soft, heavy breasts sprang forward. In her mind, she was sucking on one pink nipple (the conductor looked like she would have pink nipples, although Vanya wasn't sure why she had that idea), when she caught Helen looking at her.

Vanya flushed, her hands going down to her violin case, then back up at Helen's face. Helen was wearing a dark blue sweater, and her lipstick was very red. 

"Are you going to the holiday party?" Helen was carefully putting her violin back into its case, and the snaps of the latches were very loud. 

"The, uh... the one the orchestra is having?" Vanya said, and then she cleared her throat, because that was an awkward thing to say. Wow. She put her violin back into the case very carefully, and she tried not to look at the way Helen's stockings seemed to be hugging Helen's legs. She could make out the shape of Helen's calves, peeking out under the hem of Helen's skirt. 

"What other one would I ask you about?" Helen looked faintly nonplussed.

"Sorry," Vanya said, and she looked up into Helen's face. Her own face must have been turning very red. "I, uh..." She trailed off, cleared her throat. "That was a dumb question."

Helen gifted Vanya with a smile, and Vanya's heart leaped up into her throat. "I always end up feeling like a zombie this time of year," said Helen. "So much to do."

"Right," said Vanya, and she cleared her throat. 

"So are you going to the party?" Helen repeated.

_I don't go to parties_ almost popped out of Vanya's mouth, but... no. No, if she wanted to be more social and less lonely, she had to actually go out of her way to reach out to people. "Yes," said Vanya, and was faintly shocked at her own spontaneity. 

"Looking forward to seeing you there, then," said Helen, and then she was just... turning around and walking away. That was clearly the end of the conversation. 

Vanya tried not to stare at the way Helen's hips moved under her skirt as she walked way. 

* * *

Three days later, Vanya stood in the corner of the catering hall and asked herself why she'd done this to herself. She'd dressed up a bit, in a nice button down shirt and a nicer pair of slacks than usual. She had gone in planning to socialize, to make friends, maybe to even go home with someone, and she'd ended up... here. In the corner, nursing a drink, watching people go by. 

She wasn't used to alcohol - she hadn't drunk much on her meds, since there tended to be bad interactions. She was falling into the habit of just... watching. So many beautiful women, dressed up to look nice. Lots of short skirts, tight pants, low cut tops. Were the fashions of the day that much more revealing, or was Vanya getting that much more depraved?

She would have been more embarrassed about the fact that she was noticing all of this - that she was flat out _letching_ this blatantly - but nobody noticed. Nobody cared, and if she was going to be ignored, she might as well reap the rewards, right? She let her eyes wander along the curve of one woman's back to the plushness of her ass, to the pale softness of another's breasts, nearly spilling out of her low cut shirt. 

Vanya was a bit more... blatant than she usually was. Everyone else was giggling and tipsy, and there was an odd... safety to it. To being in this dark little corner, tucked away, letting her eyes roam across wherever they came across, letting her imagination go wild. She was concentrating particularly hard on a fantasy involving dropping to her knees in front of a woman in a particularly long, flowing skirt when her eyes focused again, and she saw that she was looking at Helen. Helen, who was looking back at her, one eyebrow up.

She didn't look impressed.

_Oh fuck_ , ran through Vanya's mind at high speed, and she licked her lips as a wave of dizziness washed over her. What if Helen had noticed her ogling? What if Helen thought that... what was she even afraid of Helen thinking? She didn't know how to put it into words, but there was some kind of complicated, wordless terror going through her. She threw her drink back, and she gave Helen a wan smile. Lacking anything else to do, Vanya downed her drink and made her way towards the bathroom. 

This was a bad idea. She shouldn't have come here, she shouldn't have gotten tipsy, she shouldn't have ogled. She needed to turn off that horny part of her brain and learn how to stop being such a pervert. 

She needed to go home and take a shower and masturbate until she couldn't feel her fingers, and then she would be able to feel like a human being again. Or at least, more like a human being and less like a horny mess. She splashed some cold water on her face, and she met her own eyes in the mirror. 

Then the door opened, and Vanya nearly jumped out of her skin. Although it made sense, this was a party, people would be coming into the bathroom. Especially the lady's room. Vanya didn't know why it was so empty, come to think of it, but... why was her mind focusing on _that_ of all things?

Helen walked in, and her heels clicked on the tile. She looked sidelong at Vanya, and she made her way to the sink next to Vanya's. "You're not subtle, you know," she said. 

"Hm?" Vanya very carefully kept her eyes on Helen's face, as much as she wanted to let them drift down. 

Helen was wearing a red sweater, and it looked so soft that Vanya wanted to rub her face against it. To say nothing of the way it clung to the gentle curves of Helen's breasts. Vanya's head was filled with the image of pressing her face into the space between Helen's breasts, and the phantom sensation of being surrounded by all that warmth and softness.

"You're not subtle," Helen repeated. She dipped down, and now Vanya was looking into her face. 

"I..." Vanya tried to say, and Helen's brown eyes bore into her own. 

"You've been staring at me," said Helen. "You've been staring at everyone. You're not subtle."

Vanya should have said _something_ to defend herself. She opened her mouth, then closed it. She tried again. 

"I'm pretty sure I know what you want," said Helen, and then she took a step closer. Close enough that she could reach out and touch Helen. She couldn't do that, she wasn't someone who did that sort of thing, she only looked, and there was nothing wrong with looking.

"I don't know what you're, uh... what you're talking about," Vanya said, and her mouth was very dry. 

Helen took another step closer, and _her breasts were pressed against Vanya's_ , warm skin pressed against warm skin, only separated by a few layers of fabric. Some part of Vanya wanted to melt. 

"You're not fooling me," said Helen. "You wouldn't fool anyone." 

"I'm not... trying to fool anyone," Vanya said, and she couldn't look Helen in the eye, couldn't look at Helen's chest, couldn't look at Helen's anything. 

"Then you're not going to follow me," said Helen. She took a step back, then, and she walked away. Not towards the door to the bathroom, though; towards one of the stalls. She turned around, keeping the door open, and she looked at Vanya with an expectant expression. 

Vanya looked at Helen, licked her very dry mouth. And then she began to walk towards the open stall door. 

* * *

Helen didn't kiss Vanya back. That was the worst part - she let Vanya's desperate face press against her own, but she turned her mouth away, maybe to preserve her lipstick? They stood in the tight confines of the bathroom stall, and when Vanya pulled back, she was observing Vanya with a cool expression.

"I'm... sorry," Vanya said, and she wasn't sure what she was apologizing for. She was blushing so hard that she could feel it in her ears. 

"For what?" Helen crossed her arms under her breasts, and it pushed them up and against her sweater. 

"Um," said Vanya. She was looking anywhere but Helen's breasts, although she wasn't sure why. The cold porcelain of the toilet was pressing into her leg, and she was trying not to squirm, trying not to blush any harder than she already was. 

"Are you sorry for staring at me like a creep? I know it isn't just me that you're staring at. So are you sorry that you've got wandering eyes?"

"Should I apologize for looking at women?" Vanya's head was spinning. She wasn't sure what direction she expected this conversation to go in, but this wasn't it. 

"I don't want you to look at other women," said Helen, and she cupped Vanya's cheek in her hand, pressing her thumb into the softness of her cheek. "I want you to look at me."

"I... I have," Vanya said thickly. "I've been looking at you, so much."

"Because you're a creep," said Helen, and she pressed her thumb against Vanya's lower lip.

Vanya took Helen's thumb into her mouth, and she sucked on it, her tongue tracing over the perfectly manicured edge of Helen's thumbnail. She wasn't even thinking as she did it. 

"You're not even denying it, are you?" Helen pulled her thumb out of Vanya's mouth, and she rubbed the wetness of it against Vanya's cheek. "You're not denying that you're a creep." 

"I'm... I don't want to be a creep," Vanya said weakly. Her knees were getting weak, and the toilet paper dispenser was digging into her back.

"I didn't ask you if you wanted to be one," Helen said sharply. "You're a creep. You ogle women like a teenage boy, but you're worse than a teenage boy. You're an adult woman, and you can't even keep your eyes on a woman's face."

Vanya was shaking so hard that her teeth were chattering, and she should have said something, but all of her attention was on the pulsing between her legs, the rushing in her ears. She opened her mouth to try to say _something_ , and then there was the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Helen was pushing her into the wall of the stall, a hand over her mouth.

Helen's face was very close to Vanya's, nose to nose, and her hand was very warm against Vanya's lips. Her other hand was going to the buttons of Vanya's shirt. As the three women who had just walked in chattered with each other, their high heels clicking, Helen carefully undid button after button of Vanya's shirt. She pushed the sides of the shirt open, and then she was pushing Vanya’s undershirt up. Vanya’s nipples were getting hard in the cooler air. 

Helen didn't touch Vanya's breasts, just looked down at them with an appraising expression. Vanya didn't know if she was being found wanting or satisfactory; she didn't know which one made her hornier, and that probably meant something complicated that she didn't even want to think about. 

Helen's hand left the hem of Vanya's undershirt. The backs of her knuckles skimmed over the space between Vanya's breasts. She leaned forward, so that her mouth was right in Vanya'd ear, and her hot breath stirred the little hairs along Vanya's temple, and made Vanya break out in goosebumps. 

"Touch yourself," Helen whispered, and her voice was low enough that Vanya almost couldn't hear it over the sounds of the women outside the stall. 

Vanya met Helen's eyes, her own wide. She was panting into the palm of Helen's hand, and the skin was hot and damp from her exhalations. 

"Touch yourself," Helen repeated, still quiet. "Make yourself come. I know you want to."

Vanya was trembling so hard that she was afraid her teeth would start chattering. She wasn't thinking as she slid her hand into her pants, she was just mesmerized by the way Helen was staring into her face. Helen wasn't looking at her breasts, wasn't looking at the hand that Vanya now had in her pants. There was a forceful intimacy to this, and that seemed to make her even _wetter_. 

Vanya could hear her own wetness as she swirled the tip of her index finger over her clit. Her legs were going tight, and her chest was heaving. She was sweating down her back, and her face seemed to be getting hotter by the second. 

"You're a pervert," Helen whispered, right in Vanya's ear. "Look at you, masturbating at your work Christmas party, after you've spent who knows how long staring at breasts and asses and legs..." 

There was more chattering in the background, and then the door opened and closed. It was the two of them, alone in the bathroom. 

Helen took her hand off of Vanya's mouth, although she stayed pressed close. The softness of her sweater was downright _indulgent_ against Vanya's nipples, and Vanya couldn't stop trembling. 

"I should have opened that stall door," Helen said. She was still talking quietly, but there was a heated undertone to her voice now. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? All those women you've been staring at, staring at _you_."

Vanya gasped - the idea of being revealed like that, of being visible instead of being hidden in a corner. The idea of beautiful women seeing her being this... depraved. This dirty. 

"But I won't," Helen said, and she tugged on Vanya's earlobe with the hand she had been holding over Vanya's mouth. The little jolt made her back arch and her mouth fall open. Hee pussy was clenching around nothing - she wanted Helen's fingers inside of her, or even to grind against Helen's thigh... even hump against Helen's leg like a dog in heat. "Do you know why?"

Vanya ground her hips forward, forcing her wet cunt against her palm. She was so wet, and her toes were curling in her shoes. She let her eyes dart from Helen's face to the swell of Helen's breasts. 

"I don't share my things," Helen said, and then she grabbed Vanya's other hand, which had been clenched into a fist, dangling at Vanya's side. She opened the hand up, and she pressed it against her own breast. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Vanya's mouth was dry, and she just... held Helen's breast in her hand. Helen's nipple was hard against her palm, Helen's breast was so _soft_. Vanya squeezed it, and Helen sighed. Her heart was beating under Vanya's palm, and Vanya's powers were tuning in to it. She held on to it tightly, as her arousal began to pull tighter in her gut. 

"I asked you a question," Helen said sharply, and she made Vanya squeeze her breast a little harder. 

"Yes," Vanya said thickly. "Yes, this is what I wanted." She was full on humping her hand now, like a woman in a blue film. 

"But you couldn't just be an adult about it," Helen said, and now she was almost scolding. Her eyes were very dark, and her lips were very red. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and her tongue looked very pink and very wet. "You couldn't ask me out to a drink and go on a date. You didn't even proposition me. You just _stared_ , like a horny teenager in homeroom.” 

Vanya had never had a homeroom. She’d never thought of it like that, but as Helen’s voice needled her on, the sweet pressure inside of her seemed to be getting tighter and tighter, pulling her towards the humiliating finish line. 

“You’re getting off on this,” said Helen. “You’re getting off on touching yourself in front of me, groping me, in the bathroom of a work Christmas party. You’re such a _creep_ , Vanya.” 

Vanya came, humping her hand and clumsily kneading at Helen’s breast. The pleasure seemed to radiate out of her clit, pulsing through the rest of her body, and she flopped back against the wall of the stall. Her hips jerked wildly, and then, _then_ Helen was kissing her, Helen’s tongue was pressed into her mouth, Helen’s fingers were in her hair. When they pulled apart, Helen looked into Vanya’s eyes.

“I’m sorry for staring at you.” Vanya said, as she caught her breath. “I didn’t mean to -”

“Do you want to come to my apartment?” Helen pulled Vanya’s wrist out of her pants, and then Helen’s hot, wet mouth was lapping at Vanya’s wet fingers. “If you’re really sorry, you can make it up to me.” She glanced around, her expression disdainful. “But… not here. Back to my apartment, I think.”

“Oh,” said Vanya, and she shivered as Helen kissed the palm of her hand. “Right. I, uh… right.”


End file.
